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Class (PS ^sn 7 

Book____iA£B& 

Copyright]^" 



COPyRlGHT DEPOSm 



OTHER BOOKS BY DR. EATON 

Acadian Legends and Lyrics 

The Heart of the Creeds, Historical 

Religion in the Light of Modern 

Thought 
The Church of England in Nova 

Scotia and the Tory Clergy of 

THE Revolution 

Tales of a Garrison Town (with C. 
L. Betts) 

Acadian Ballads and De Soto's Last 
Dream 

Poems in Notable Anthologies 

Recollections of a Georgia Loyalist, 
Edited and Introduced 

Educational Works, Compiled and 
Edited 

Family Historical Monographs 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 



POEMS 

OF THE 

CHRISTIAN YEAR 

BY 

ARTHUR WENTWORTH 
EATON 



NEW YORK 

THOMAS WHITTAKER 

M C M V 






LIBRARY of COWGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

DEC 14 1905 

^ Copyright Entry , 
CLASS C^. XXc, No. 
COPY 



Copyright, 1905 

By Arthur Wentworth Hamilton Eaton 

All Rights Reserved 



Published November, 1905 



^ 
^ 

^ 



TO 
MARY LAWRENCE HAUGHTON 



CONTENTS 

ADVENT PAGE 

When Saints of Old 15 

CHRISTMAS 

There Came A King 21 

Eder's Watch Tower 23 

The Angels* Song 25 

Happy Christmas Days of Old ... 27 

1 Know a Vast Cathedral 29 

They Tell Us Only Rustic Shep- 
herds Heard 31 

Christmas Prophecy 32 

EPIPHANY 

Wise Men From the Orient Came 35 

SEPTUAGESIMA, SEXAGESIMA, QUIN- 
QUAGESIMA 
Preparation 39 

9 



CONTENTS 

LENT PAGE 

The Lenten-tide 43 

Lenten Hope 45 

The Inner Court 47 

EASTER 

White Festival of Easter 51 

O Easter Queen 54 

Easter Flowers 56 

All the Sullen Sorrow of the 

Nations 58 

Easter-tide 60 

At Last With Soft Magnolia Blooms 62 

ASCENSION 

The Conquering Life 67 

WHITSUN-TIDE 

O Spirit From the Eternal Deep 71 

TRINITY 

God's Manifoldness 77 

My Purest Longings Spring 81 

O Love Divine 83 

10 



CONTENTS 

TRINITY (Continued) page 

Sinai and the Plain 85 

Resignation , 88 

Immortality 89 

He Understands 90 

Thy Priest 92 

Pray For The Dead 94 

Sometime 96 



\ 



II 



ADVENT 



WHEN SAINTS OF OLD 

TXiTHEN saints of old sad vigil kept 
' ^ Beside the brooks of Babylon, 
And swathed in sackcloth, silent wept 
Because the light of Heaven was gone. 
Some prophet old, in desert dress, 
Would raise his rugged voice and cry: 
"Why sit ye here in such distress ? 
Ye ask deliverance, it is nigh. 
Ye crave a monarch who shall show 
Compassion for the suffering poor. 
That sceptred king ye soon shall know. 
His chariot wheels are at the door. 

One starlit night a little child, 
The King so long expected, came, 
To still the sea of passion wild. 
The sins that darken Hfe to shame, 

15 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

Deep in the conscience of the race 
To light red judgment fires, whose gleam 
Should penetrate the darkest place 
Of human thought, or deed, or dream. 
His throne was laid in law and love. 
The crown he wore was righteousness, 
Of the symbolic sacred dove 
His signet had the sole impress. 

Thus came he once, but every age 
Beholds that sovereign come again, 
The war with wrong afresh to wage. 
The love to seek of sorrowing men. 
And while we sit in vigil sad 
Beside our brooks of Babylon, 
And mourn because the world is mad. 
And Truth's majestic empire done, 
God's prophets, as in ages old 
In Judah and in Galilee, 
Proclaim that lust and love of gold 
Shall not enthroned forever be, 

But humbled to their rightful place 
Of thralls and subject powers, shall stand 
Subdued and meek before his face 
Who sits at last in sole command; 

i6 



WHEN SAINTS OF OLD 

That all the lies men love shall flee 

Like ghosts that dread the approaching sun, 

Whene'er the king in majesty 

Declares the reign of error done; 

That redder judgment fires shall glow, 
And yet sweet love increase in power, 
Till Time's mixed trumpets cease to blow 
And earth has reached its final hour. 



17 



CHRISTMAS 



THERE CAME A KING 

'' I '^HERE came a king to Bethlehem town, 

■■■ Two thousand years gone by, 
Who had no ermine robe or crown 
To mark His royalty, 

Who found no throng to pave His road 

With palms, or carpets gay, 
Nor palace rich for His abode. 

Nor courtiers to obey; 

Yet empire vast awaited Him 

On mountain, moor, and main; 
Even Europe's tangled forests dim 

Held subjects for His reign. 

And soon confusion ceased to hold 

Uninterrupted power. 
And some of earth's oppressions old 

Began to cringe and cower. 

21 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

There came a King to Bethlehem town, 
Two thousand years gone by, 

And angels from the heavens spoke down 
A royal prophecy, 

That while the red sun's central flame 
Should warm the peopled spheres, 

Though every other kingly name 
Lay dead among dead years, 

This King should hold His state above 

The weakness of decay. 
Because the eternal power of love 

Should base His throne alway. 

There came a King to Bethlehem town, 
Two thousand years gone by, 

And still He reigns, and still speaks down 
The angels' prophecy, 

And some fair century yet to rise 
His power complete shall grow. 

And all earth's sceptered cruelties 
Before His throne lie low. 



22 



EDER'S WATCH-TOWER 

T LOVE the soft incoming tide 
-*- That breaks in showers of silver spray, 
I love the dav7n that opens w^ide 
The floodgates of the living day, 

I love the harvest voice that speaks 

From each green blade of grow^ing corn, 

I love the first faint beam that breaks 
Across the heart in sorrov^'s morn, 

But fairer than the silver tide. 

And brighter than the morning's flood 

The light on Bethlehem's meadov^s wide 
Where Eder's ancient watch-tower stood. 

O little town of Bethlehem 

Where Christ, the perfect man, was born, 
What healing balm thou hast for them 

Whose feet are tired and travel-worn, 

23 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

The Angels* song thy shepherds heard 
Makes music still among the years, 

Thou driest with thy magic word 
The piteous fount of human tears; 

O fairer than the silver tide 

And brighter than the morning's flood 
The light across thy meadows wide, 

Where Eder's ancient watch-tower stood. 



24 



THE ANGELS' SONG 

T T 7HEN ancient faiths the Orient held 

^ ^ Were crumbling to decay, 
And blind mythologies of eld 

In mournful ruin lay, 
The hungry-hearted world was given 

Truth unrevealed too long. 
And from the glittering gates of heaven 

Swept forth the angels' song. 

When o'er the blossoming fields of thought 

An autumn blight has come. 
When every oracle we sought 

In happier days is dumb, 
Sometimes the spaces wide are riven 

With strains delayed too long, 
And from the glittering gates of heaven 

Comes down the angels' song. 

When life shrieks discords everywhere 
And passion's dreadful cries 

25 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

Make mad disharmony in the air 

And rend the tranquil skies, 
Sweet, silvery flute-notes God has striven 

To make us hear too long 
Steal from the glittering gates of heaven,- 

The blessed angels' song. 

O Christly choristers that first 

Sang dov^n to Syrian men 
Let your melodious music burst 

Upon the world again. 
Come to our spirits helpless driven 

On turbulent tides too long. 
Then shall we see the gates of heaven 

And hear the angels' song. 



26 



O HAPPY CHRISTMAS DAYS OF OLD 

O HAPPY Christmas days of old, 
When chimes rang out across the snow 
That lay its crust on wood and wold, 
On hills above, on fields below. 

O happy Christmas days of old, 

When carols clear by children sung 

Awoke the starlit evening cold 

And through the silent hamlet rung. 

O happy Christmas days of old. 
When holly from the rafters fell. 

And bells in moss-grown towers tolled 
The midnight hymn men loved so well. 

O happy Christmas days of old. 

When every castle far and near 
Its stern portcullis upward rolled 

And welcomed all who came with cheer. 

27 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

O happy Christmas days of old, 
When poorest beggars ate their fill, 

When for the time the meek grew bold, 
And everywhere was right good will. 

O happy Christmas days of old. 

When yule clogs burned and flames leaped high, 
And round the hearth good people told 

Tales of the Christ's nativity. 

O happy, happy night of old. 

When, ere the world's first Christmas morn, 
Kings of the East brought gifts of gold 

To lay before the newly-born. 

O happy Christmas days of old, 

O night that gladdened all below, 
Let your sweet spirit us enfold. 

Till perfect Christmas joys we know! 



28 



I KNOW A VAST CATHEDRAL 

T KNOW a vast Cathedral, 

-■- With sculptured walls and high, 

And windows dight with every light 

That decks the sunset sky; 
And towers enwrapped with ivy. 

And bells forever glad, 
That peal and peal a future weal 

To man, oppressed and sad. 

I know a vast Cathedral, 

Outside, a thing of grace, 
But loveliness none can express 

In its interior space; 
It is the Christ's ReHgion, 

And he that enters there 
Finds truth long sealed at last revealed- 

Aye, Heaven itself laid bare. 

Its central tower is Christmas, 
And thence melodious chimes 

29 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

Each year ring out the death of doubt, 

The strifes of ancient times; 
Ring in with exultation 

The truth men fail to see, 
That following right brings truest might, 

That love gives liberty. 

Best faith of all the ages. 

Great temple, ivy-grown, 
With windows dight with every light 

That decks the Eternal Throne, 
Down from thy central tower, 

Let Heaven's sweet chimes to-day 
Ring loud and fast, till men at last 

Keep well God's Christmas Day. 



30 



THEY TELL US ONLY RUSTIC 
SHEPHERDS HEARD 

"Such music (as 'tis said) 
Before was never made, 
But when of old the sons of morning sung." 

— Milton. 

^ I ^HEY tell us only rustic shepherds heard 
-*• The song of angel choirs, in Palestine, 
That strange, momentous night of Jesus' birth. 
The song that welcomed in the great new-born — 
A few rude men, whose brows had never worn 
The poorest honors people prize on earth 
And grasp so greedily and think so fine; 
To them alone was hymned God's gracious Word. 

In every age that song is oftenest heard 

By natural men, who shun ambition's strife. 

Who would be happy wandering o'er the plain 

With only trees and flowers and birds and sheep; 

Who work for daily bread, and never weep 

Save with real sorrow or for genuine pain. 

To such, in western as in orient Hfe, 

God's angels love to hymn His gracious Word. 

31 



CHRISTMAS PROPHECY 

SILVERY-BEARDED, bent, and gray, 
The Old Year passeth swift away. 
Yet the ringers he keeps in his belfry tower 
Peal no dirge for his waning power. 

He is bidding them ring so joyously, 
Can the Year of his end forgetful be ? 
"Ah, no," he says, "I am old and worn 
But the young Christ-life to-day is born; 

"I have led the world to its Christmas-tide, 
I have opened the door of Heaven wide. 
And bells of the ages hung on high 
Are chiming out God's charity. 

"O welcome, then, the Bethlehem Boy, 
Sing at his cradle songs of joy. 
Wreathe for his altars holly red. 
For the shames of earth at last are dead." 



32 



EPIPHANY 



WISE MEN FROM THE ORIENT CAME 

"\X JISE men from the Orient came 

^ ^ To the manger where Christ lay, 
Knelt with gladness, not with shame. 
By the baby's bed of hay. 

Ermine robes and quilts of down 
Are the right of infant kings. 
Only one poor mantle brown 
0*er her child sweet Mary flings; 

Can so mean a cradle hide 
What these Eastern Magi seek ? 
Ah, the heart forgets its pride 
When the intellect is meek; 

They have striven in many lands 
To supply their famished souls. 
Crossed, perhaps, Arabia's sands. 
Wandered sadly toward the poles, 

35 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

But success their search has crowned 
Not till, tired and travel-worn, 
They have learned that Truth is found 
Oftenest in a manger born. 

So we wander blind and poor, 
Hungry-hearted, sick with sin, 
Till at last some humble door 
Of God's mystery shuts us in; 

Stables then like castles are. 
Lowly men Hke princes born. 
Glad are we when any star 
Heralds any Christmas morn. 



36 



SEPTUAGESIMA, SEXAGESIMA, 
QUINQUAGESIMA 



PREPARATION 

XX /"HO does not love the tranquil mystery 
^ ^ Of twilight, when the day is almost spent; 
Who welcomes not the sacred Sundays three 
That usher in the sober fast of Lent! 

One calls to temperance and self-control 

And bids us yield whatever clogs or maims, 

That we may win in contests of the soul 

As strong Greek youths won in the Olympian games; 

One shows Truth's tender seeds, in soft embrace 
Of fertile soil spring up to leaf and flower; 
Or, unbedewed by love, unsunned by grace, 
Fail in unfriendly earth for want of power. 

One points to where, securely throned on high 
Above moralities, howe'er divine. 
Sits god-like Love, pure-minded Charity, 
And makes us gladly worship at her shrine; 

39 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

All pave the way pressed long by Christian feet 
From natural joy to that delightful shade 
Where purple penitential flowers grow sweet, 
And perfume all the air, and never fade. 

O calm pre-Lenten days, your lessons deep 
We would be taught; so God should give us mirth 
For mourning, wake our souls from sluggish sleep. 
And help us walk in heaven while yet on earth. 



40 



LENT 



THE LENTEN-TIDE 

"1X7 HAT have we done that we should seek 

^ ^ This Lenten-tide to be forgiven ? 
Our lips have never dared to speak 
Reproach or calumny of Heaven! 
Yet to the Lenten-tide belongs 
Repentance for some secret wrongs. 

What need have we for such distress ? 
Our hands have never robbed the poor, 
We have not spurned in bitterness, 
The trembling feet that sought our door; 
And yet the Lenten-tide is meant 
For men with spirits penitent. 

What have we done ? Our memories tell 

Of scorn, impurity, and hate, 

Of pride we have not sought to quell, 

43 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

Of duty's promptings bidden to wait — 
Ah Heaven! that we should have such pride 
To sorrow for at Lenten-tide. 

What have we done ? Our narrow thought 

Has Hmited the Love divine, 

And all the flood of truth has sought 

In human channels to confine; 

The Truth of God, so free and wide, 

Condemns us at the Lenten-tide. 

The web of life is spun apace. 
And many threads are gay and bright, 
But some to give the pattern grace 
Must bear the impress of the night. 
No weaver's hand may cast aside 
The dark threads of the Lenten-tide. 



44 



LENTEN HOPE 

^TpHROUGH all the world's dark Lenten days 

-*■ Some Easter songs keep ringing, 
No age so hopeless but its ways 
Are cheered by distant singing, 

No time so wintry but it keeps 

Some seeds of bloom and brightness; 

No chaff so worthless but there sleeps 
Some good grain in its lightness. 

No spirit in such hopeless gloom 

That through the walls of feeling 
God's sunlight to its darkest room 

Comes not, swift moments, stealing. 

These shadowy, purple days of Lent, 

So steeped in present sorrow. 
Have promise full, of soul-content 

On Easter's glorious morrow; 

45 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

Have presage that mankind shall wake, 
When earth's day-dream is ended, 

In lands where cloud and stream and lake 
In perfect grace are blended. 

They keep a golden silence still, 

*Tis true, that saints or sages 
Shall never penetrate until 

The sunset of the ages. 

But through all sombre Lenten-tides 
Such hopeful strains keep ringing. 

Our hearts are sure that somewhere hides 
A world of quenchless singing. 



46 



THE INNER COURT 

"qpARRY ye here!" the Saviour said 
-■- And to the deeper shade withdrew 

Of that dark spot near Kedron's bed 
Where high, o'er-arching oHves grew. 

"Tarry ye here!" nor friend, nor foe 
Must on this dreadful hour intrude. 

My soul must face its bitterest woe 
In silence and in solitude. 

"Tarry ye here!" for I alone 

Must enter dark Gethsemane, 
No ear but God's must Hst my moan, 

Though ye without may watch with me." 

"Tarry ye here," each sufferer says, 
"Pain's common portals open wide, 

But sorrow has mysterious ways 
Where even from you my soul must hide. 

47 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

"Wait till the purple shadows spun 

About my griePs Gethsemane 
Have thinned a little in the sun 

That never long obscured can be; 

"Stay till the spirit, dumb with pain, 

Has spent its inarticulate cry. 
And faith so parched has drunk the rain 

Of God's compassion from the sky." 

"Tarry ye here," the Saviour said. 
And into deeper shade withdrew. 

Then to the soul uncomforted 

Heaven's chiefest white-winged angels flew. 



48 



EASTER 



WHITE FESTIVAL OF EASTER 

1 T rHITE Festival of Easter, 

^ ^ Triumphant day of days, 
The Hght of hope enkindling 
Beside our lifeless ways, 

'Tis right that regal lilies 
About thy form should fling 

The richest incense-odours 
Mixed by the magic spring; 

For thou hast all the beauty 

Born of unsightly clay, 
In nature's garden lavished 

Since Time began her sway. 

And thou hast all the glory, 
In face and voice and mien, 

Of every moral conquest 

Man's struggling life has seen, 

51 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

And thou hast all the promise 

Of golden years to come, 
When earth's imperfect prattle 

And clamorous cry are dumb, 



When Truth's uncertain glimmer 
Clear light has come to be. 

And strong, sweet tides of reason 
Have swept humanity. 

White Festival of Easter, 

Thou sham'st the earth-born dream 
That darkness is eternal 

And pain and loss supreme, 

A better faith thou bearest. 

Belief from heaven that springs. 

That death is only progress. 
And life the goal of things. 

Thy tale of resurrection 

Is but the sacred seal 
Affixed to nature's promise 

Of endless future weal, 

52 



WHITE FESTIVAL OF EASTER 

And we who oft despairing, 
Long Lenten days have wept, 

With songs of satisfaction 
This lofty faith accept, 

And bid thy strong, pure sceptre. 
Triumphant Queen of days. 

White Festival of Easter, 

Rule all our wandering ways. 



53 



O EASTER QUEEN 

O EASTER, queen of all the days 
That wear the Church's crown, 
Upon our troubled human ways 
Thy calm, fair face looks down. 

Thou cam*st this morning thro' the fields 
And spoke some magic word. 

And all the plain that harvest yields 
With pulsing life was stirred; 

The hyacinth and tulip gay 

About thy pathway pressed, 
But golden-petaled lilies lay 

In triumph on thy breast; 

The messenger of death stooped low 
To kiss thy conquering feet, 

Life, trembling, seemed at last to know 
Her victory complete. 

54 



O EASTER QUEEN 

Thou earnest to the sleeping town 
To where the mourner lay, 

And joy rose from her prison brown 
And rolled the stone away. 

Thou hast the heaHng balm to mend 
The spirit hurt with fear, 

It is thy gift new strength to lend 
To us who languish here. 

O Easter, queen of all the days 
That wear the Church's crown, 

Upon our troubled human ways 
Forevermore look down! 



55 



EASTER FLOWERS 

'' I ^HEY speak deep truths, these Hlies dumb, 

-■■ Whose waxen forms our altars hide. 
Fresh from Bermudian gardens come 
To help us keep our Easter-tide. 

They rouse our slumbering minds to think, 
These timid, trembling crocus blooms, 

In blue and lavender and pink, 

From Nature's daintiest colour-looms. 

The regal tulips flaunting fair 

In gorgeous robes of red and gold. 

Through parks and gardens everywhere, 
What thoughts their broidered bosoms hold; 

We read their minds and glimpses get 

That fill us with mysterious joy. 
Of worlds where perfect words are set 

To melodies that never cloy, 

56 



EASTER FLOWERS 

Of marsh-lands welcoming every day 
Ecstatic tides that surge and sweep 

From that divine, unfathomed bay, 
The source of soul-perfection, deep, 

Of fields beyond the doors of death, 
O'er-arched by skies of loveHer blue 

And rich with buds of sweeter breath 
Than Indian islands ever knew. 

O shadowy lanes through which we pass, 
To mellow noon or purple night. 

With springing step, or slow, alas! 
The days too quickly taking flight, 

Let all your measuring mile-stones be 
Swathed in the flowers whose petals hide 

Thoughts deep as God's eternity. 
Truths angels tell at Easter-tide. 



57 



ALL THE SULLEN SORROW OF THE 
NATIONS 

ALL the sullen sorrow of the nations, 
All the heavy weight of earth's decay, 
Cannot crush the faith that newly quickens 
In the spirit, every Easter Day. 

Never lay the pall of error darklier 

On men's shackled souls than now it lies, 

Through the vault of this late age are echoing 
All the old despairing plaints and cries. 

Knowledge twists and spins with subtle fingers 
Threads of gold for our immortal gain. 

In the complex looms of human progress 
We still weave them into webs of pain. 

Yet the world persistent keeps believing 
Pain has not an end in painless clay. 

And we hear its hearty creed-confessing 
In the hopeful hymns it sings to-day. 

58 



ALL THE SULLEN SORROW 

Death is not, but only resurrection, 
Graves of all dead joys fly open wide. 

Quivering souls burst free from final fetters — 
This man's vision at the Easter-tide. 

Cling then, brothers, to the lofty promise 

Of a life superior to decay, 
Uttered by the earth in Spring's awakening, 

Voiced by the glad rites of Easter Day; 

Go in peace, God mocks not man's believing 

With mirage or fleeting phantasy. 
Faith like ours is knowledge to our kindred 

In those worlds where fettered minds are free. 



59 



EASTER-TIDE 

T TAIL, Ancient Easter-tide that drew 
■*- -^ The nations to thy shrine, 
Thou who wert born when man first knew 
The thrall of Spring divine; 

Thou hast the fragrance of all flowers 

That fill hope's garden wide, 
And clusters that enrich her bowers, 

O blessed Easter-tide. 

The mirrors of earth's banquet hall 

Reflect thy glittering rays, 
Thou art the fairest pearl in all 

Her diadem of days. 

The pattern of the time is cold. 
The weavers weave in gloom. 

Unseen, thou windest threads of gold 
Into the busy loom. 

60 



EASTER-TIDE 

The dark-robed angel as he flies 
The shores of Hfe beside, 

Hearing thy god-Hke message cries 
"Victorious Easter-tide!" 

O Easter, Hft thy beacon higher 

Above us as we grope, 
Thy lantern Hghted at the fire 

Of the world's larger hope; 

In answering love, to all who love 
The Church's hallowed ways. 

Come with thy message from above 
For our despondent days. 



6i 



AT LAST WITH SOFT MAGNOLIA BLOOMS 

A T last with soft magnolia blooms 
"^ ^ The southern woods are fair, 
And jasmines add their rich perfumes 
To the delicious air. 

At last the less luxuriant north 

Wakes from its torpid spell, 
And tender living things creep forth 

Into the sunshine's swell. 

Dark Lenten shades again dissolve 

In glorious Easter light, 
And faith awakes with high resolve 

From penitential night. 

All life is born, in these low spheres. 

From other life's decay. 
Some sombre night of tears or fears 

Begets each golden day, 

62 



AT LAST WITH SOFT MAGNOLIA BLOOMS 

And though we walk with eyes too bhnd 
To what such things declare, 

Conviction deep sways every mind 
That in some world more fair, 

When death has worked its icy will 

Upon the summer's cheer 
And all the lust of Hfe lies still 

Upon its iron bier, 

Soft Springs and Easter-tides shall break 

With light supremely fair, 
And every sleeping thing awake 

In the delicious air. 



63 



ASCENSION 



THE CONQUERING LIFE 

'' I ^HE gentle slopes of Olivet were green, 

•*• And oleanders censed the passers by, 

And fronded palms lent grandeur to the scene 

As the victorious Lord went up on high. 

On rugged mountain tops where rocks were strown, 
And o'er rough roads, his feet had often strayed, 

Last, in Gethsemane's deep shades, alone, 

The stricken, sorrowing Christ had knelt and 
prayed; 

Now death itself was past, and he, a king. 

Midst angel guards assumed his primal power; 

O sleeping sons of men, awake and sing. 
This is not his but your triumphal hour! 

He broke from Joseph's tomb that ye might break 
From all the graves that bar your souls from day, 

He drank anew life's cup that ye might take 
Unstinted draughts of Heaven along the way; 

67 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

He rose to higher worlds that ye might rise 

From earth-born doubts and tombs of low desire, 

*Twas your redemption song that filled the skies 
When he was met by all the angel choir. 

O Risen Christ, we never trod with thee 
Judean fields, where scarlet lilies flower, 

Nor with the silent group near Bethany 

Stood wondering, at thy great ascension hour. 

Yet in thy conquering life we have a share, 
Thy pity and thy peace to us belong; 

The crowns thou wearest we thy followers wear. 
The sceptred strength thou wieldest makes us 
strong. 



68 



WHITSUN-TIDE 



O SPIRIT FROM THE ETERNAL DEEP 

r^ SPIRIT from the Eternal Deep, 
^^ Who earnest once with wind and fire 
To wake the world from sensual sleep, 
And rouse the Church to strong desire. 

Thy subtle influence sways the race 
To virile thought and virtuous deed, 

Thou hast no narrow resting-place 

In commonwealth, or church, or creed; 

Through many a crowd since Pentecost 
Thy influence unperceived has crept, 

On souls the church accounted lost 
Thy clear, ecstatic flame has leapt. 

Thou art the rich, luxuriant mould 
Wherein our best deeds germinate, 

Thine was the power of sculptors old 
Their shapeliest statues to create, 

71 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

By thee the vast cathedrals rose, 
And heavenly music came to birth, 

Thy rich perfection overflows 
In all the beauty of the earth. 



Thy voice is heard in every sigh 
Of the soft-swaying forest trees. 

Thine is the un jarring melody 

That greets us in the summer breeze, 

We hear thy heart-beats in the shade 
And silence of the forest dim, 

Thou art in all the flowers that braid 
With blue and gold the river's brim; 

The firmament thy mind reveals. 

The unchanging orbs, the spaces wide. 

The splendid crimson fire that steals 
Into the west at eventide. 

'Tis thou that from the eternal deep. 
With noiseless call, with wind and fire. 

When we are sunk in sensual sleep 
Awakenest us to strong desire, 

72 



O SPIRIT OF THE ETERNAL DEEP 

And on the hearth where once of old 

Love burned, then flickered, then was lost, 

Reviv'st amidst the ashes cold 
The inspiring flame of Pentecost. 



73 



TRINITY 



GOD'S MANIFOLDNESS 

O DOCTRINE deep, of the ages, O creed of 
the inmost soul, 
Confessed wherever man craves for Hght, from 

Tropic sun to pole, 
Thou wert not wrought in the workshop of cold 

scholastic brain, 
Nor brought to birth like lesser creeds in intellec- 
tual pain. 
Thou wert born when the wings of the Spirit 

brooded the soundless sea 
And quickened the atoms primal to wondrous 

potency, 
Thou wert forged when the worlds chaotic, inclosed 

in the fiery sun, 
Were thrown from the central system and order 

was begun. 
Thou wert shaped when God in his power said 

light at last should be; 

77 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

Then shed thy light on our darkness, O Truth of 
Trinity. 



We peer through the cruel spaces with orphaned 

worlds alive, 
We look at the sentient kingdoms, where none 

but the strong survive. 
And the faith we are bidden to cherish seems only 

a mocking light. 
And we feel like timid children left alone in the 

night, 
But thou art a voice to tell us a father's love is 

shown 
In every act creative since Chaos was overthrown, 
Thou sayest that high in heaven sits not a love- 
less God, 
But one who comes with yearning to kiss the 

meanest clod; 
Then we pray that our hearts forever held close to 

his heart shall be, 
And cling to the creed that saves us, the Truth of 

Trinity. 

We are tired of earth's oppressions, we are sick of 
its greed of gold, 

78 



GOD'S MANIFOLDNESS 

The wrongs that are waged in the darkness, the 

crimes that the days unfold, 
We look for the signs of sonhood in the race divinely 

made, 
But the signs grow faint and fainter, and at last we 

feel afraid 
That man is an engine only, set like a watch for a 

day, 
A deft work done in the light of the sun, a sculp- 
tured form of clay, — 
Till we turn to the First-begotten and find that he 

came to tell 
That man, who is God's creation, is God's own 

child as well; 
Then we pray that the mind of the Father in his 

sons fulfilled may be. 
And rest with hope firm-founded on the Truth of 

Trinity. 



The life in the woods in spring-time, when the sap 

runs free and warm. 
The might of the oak, or cedar, that breasts the 

winter storm. 
The joy that swells and burgeons in the fertile 

breast of the earth 

79 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

As it brings the crocus and tulip and blushing rose 

to birth, 
Are all from the same full fountain where the faith 

of man is fed, 
Where feeble souls are strengthened and sad souls 

comforted, — 
'Tis the life of a Personal Power that moves in 

all that is seen. 
That makes the blind earth blossom, and keeps 

man's courage green; 
O God of the worlds, unmeasured our longing is 

for thee. 
To loftier heights uplift us through thine own 

Trinity! 



80 



MY PUREST LONGINGS SPRING 

1\ /TY purest longings spring 
-*'^-*- From the divine, 
The sv>Aeetest songs I sing 
They are not mine, 

I chisel the rude stone 

With feverish hand. 
The statue comes alone 

At God's command. 

Beyond earth's tainted air 

I sometimes fly 
On wings of faith and prayer; 

Yet 'tis not I. 

Not I but He enHghts 
My flickering creeds, 

8i 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

Not I but He unites 
My shattered deeds; 

Not I but God, for He, 

My larger life, 
Fulfils Himself in me 

With ceaseless strife. 



82 



O LOVE DIVINE 

OLOVE Divine, that circlest all 
Our little seas of strife, 
So might I feel thy tender thrall 
Upon my wayward life. 

The restless tides of ocean creep 

Into the sheltered bays, 
Thy tides through all my being sweep 

And fill its water-ways. 

O Love Divine, pure sea of light 

About a sea of sin, 
Thy blessed radiance to-night 

Folds all my darkness in, 

And soothes to peace the unquiet shore 
Where angry waves have lain. 

And spreads a silver mantle o'er 
The unsightly rocks of pain, 

83 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

And stills the moaning of the storm 
I thought could not be stayed, 

And shames the doubt whose shadowy form 
Kept mocking as I prayed. 

O Love Divine, that circlest all 

Our little seas of strife, 
Forever in thy rapturous thrall 

Enfold my wayward Hfe! 



84 



SINAI AND THE PLAIN 

"IT /HEN Moses left the sacred mount, 

^ ^ Enraptured with the voice of God, 
His peace was like a living fount 
That bursts from the incrusting sod, 

The dazzling radiance round his brow- 
Bore witness to the Spirit's fire, 

Nor did his ecstasy allow 

Of worldly thought or weak desire. 

He saw the tents of Israel 

Thick on the plain at Sinai's base, 

Like white-winged, nestling doves, that dwell 
In shelter of some holy place. 

And as the winding path he trod. 
From barren crag to verdant slope. 

He felt himself the priest of God, 
The inspired minister of hope. 

85 



POEMS OF THE CHRISTIAN YEAR 

Here Heaven tunes, it is her way, 
The heart to hoHest harmonies 

And then lets earth's rude fingers play 
Discordant strains upon the keys, — 



A glittering idol god, upreared 
Against Jehovah's sovereign law, 

A god by sensual Pharoahs feared. 
With angry eyes the prophet saw; 

He dashed the hallowed stones away 

God's hand had graven on Sinai's height. 

And while their fragments round him lay 
He passed into the gloom of night. 

O Spirit, calm, of truth and power. 
Give us thy courage on our way, 

In every weak, despondent hour 
Visit our trembhng faith and say: 

"Not thus forever shall the soul 

From radiant peaks of faith be hurled, 

Truth's steady tide shall sometime roll 
Into the worship of the world, 

86 



SINAI AND THE PLAIN 

"And men shall scorn idolatries, 
And reverent wait at Sinai's base 

Till he appears whose favoured eyes 
Have seen Jehovah face to face." 



87 



RESIGNATION 

T ASK no more that I may know 
-■^ The way God has for me, 
I only care that He shall show 
My duty momently, 

At first I sought with restless mind 
To know the entire way, 

But now I am content to find 
My path from day to day. 

I am not idle, for it seems 
That much on me depends. 

But failing all my fondest dreams 
I take what Heaven sends; 

Not always gladly, but resigned, 
I wait the Father's will. 

Believing that though I am blind 
He walks beside me still. 



88 



IMMORTALITY 

^nr^HERE are strange moments when the human 

■*■ dies 
In us, and the divine our spirits bear 
Rises supreme, and awful silence lies 
Upon our seas, and lightest thought is prayer. 

We question immortality on lower planes 
And grope for arguments to end the strife; 
We are immortal when the spirit reigns 
And then are conscious of undying life. 

Of immortality, till thou canst call 

Thy soul, in reverence, such names as God 

Is wont to bear, speak not; till thou canst fall 

Before thyself, then rising from the sod 

Of thine own humanness, in worlds above 

Declare with him, *'I am V and "I am love ! " 



89 



HE UNDERSTANDS 

T T 7HEN we have come with all our faults and 
" ^ fears 
Into the presence chamber of the King 
I do not think we shall recount the years 
That now seem scarred so deep with suffering; 

I do not think that He will give us time 
To scourge our souls because we were so vile, 
But only look at us and make us climb 
Into high heaven upon his loving smile. 

When all life's passion clouds have burned away 
And we have looked at last upon the Sun 
I think we shall not bow our heads and stay 
Mourning the victories we might have won, 

But be caught up so quick above our fears 
That we shall lose the words we meant to say 
About our fierce temptations, and the tears 
Of weak regret we shed along our way, 

90 



HE UNDERSTANDS 

And rest like little children at the side 

Of Him who leads us up to those high lands, 

Lost in his hfe, forever satisfied, 

Since He misjudges not, but understands. 



91 



THY PRIEST 

T X ^HEN at early morn I stand 

^ ^ Humble at the Altar Feast, 
Breaking bread at thy command, 
Then I know I am thy Priest. 

When thou showest I have turned 
Some blind spirit towards the east 

Who for sunlight long has yearned, 
Then I know I am thy Priest. 

When thou let'st me soothe a pain 
Others, probing, have increased. 

Then 'tis clear that not in vain 
I have been ordained thy Priest. 

Make me anxious, Lord, to be 

Helpful to the very least 
Child of weak humanity. 

This will prove I am thy Priest. 

92 



THY PRIEST 

To some altar every day 

Where the flame of hope has ceased 
Point, O Christ, my feet the way, 

Gladly there will go thy Priest. 



93 



PRAY FOR THE DEAD 

PRAY for the dead, who bids thee not, 
Is human kinship, then, so frail 
That those we love can be forgot 

When they have passed within the veil ? 

Has God released the old, sweet ties 
He took such loving pains to weld. 

And said: "Henceforth their memories 
In prayerless silence must be held ? " 

Have they no triumphs yet to win. 
No toilsome heights of truth to climb, 

Does no strange syllable of sin 

Mar the soft cadence of their rhyme ? 

Pray for the dead, the links that bound 
Thy soul to theirs were forged on high. 

Borne upward they have surely found 
The chain firm fastened in the sky; 

94 



PRAY FOR THE DEAD 

And they have found that there as here 

Thou gavest them strength the roads to run 

That end in gateways opening clear 
On friendher fields beyond the sun, 

And they have watched thy winding ways 
And helped thee many a load to bear, 

And in thy dark, despondent days 

Have stretched for thee strong hands of prayer. 

Pray for the dead nor cease thy prayer, 

Though holier they not yet are free 
To climb to those great uplands fair 

Where only perfect souls may be. 

Pray for the dead, it is thy right 

To leap in faith the shadowy bars 
That shut thee still to orbs of night. 

And keep them safe in golden stars. 



95 



SOMETIME 

OOMETIME, sometime, 

^^ The clouds of ignorance shall part asunder, 

And we shall see the fair, blue sky of truth 
Spangled with stars, and look with joy and wonder 

Up to the happy dream-lands of our youth, 
And thither climb. 

Sometime, sometime. 
The passion of the heart we keep dissembling 

Shall free herself, and rise on silver wing. 
And all ungathered chords of music, trembling 
Deep in the soul, our hps shall learn to sing, 
A strain sublime. 

Sometime, sometime, 
Love's broken links shall all be reunited, 

But not upon the ashy forge of pain; 
The full-blown roses dead, the sweet buds blighted 
Shall bloom beside life's garden walks again. 
In fairer clime. 

96 



SOMETIME 

Sometime, sometime, 
The prophet's unsealed lips shall straight deliver 

The message of eternal life uncursed; 
Wind-swept, the poet's heaven-tuned soul shall 
quiver. 
And from his trembling lyre at length shall burst 
Immortal rhyme. 



97 



DEC 141905^ 




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